Seeing is Believing
by L3ftOfCent3r
Summary: They both have an eye for observation and know what it's like to be thought of as "crazy". Henry meets Jefferson for just a moment, but the impression lasts much longer.


**A/N: This story was inspired by the one-shot called "Growing Pains" by Malteaser because it reminded me of how much I like Henry as a character. It's official! Henry and Jefferson are my favs. So, I had to get the two of them together!  
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Seeing is Believing

Not much changed in Storybrooke. In fact, according to Henry Mills, the only thing that _ever_ changed in Storybrooke was himself. His classmates from 3 years ago were still in the same grade, and Henry believed that they always would be. Time didn't change them. Time didn't matter and that's why Henry decided to ignore the after school appointment with the town therapist.

The kids who never changed, who never grew taller, who never advanced a grade—ran passed him while he stood very still, staring at something in the distance. Beyond the hedges that bordered the school and beyond the street, sat the shadowy figure of man on a bench. He was there everyday after school, watching as the kids exited the building before heading-off to their homes. He was just one more thing that never changed about Storybrooke, but recently, Henry had started to discover "why".

The storybook inside of his backpack felt a little heavier as he crossed the street. Henry's hands reached up to his shoulders to adjust the straps. It wasn't merely the weight of the book that bared-down on his shoulders—it was the weight of the secrets and the answers that it held in its pages. The answers inside the book had led Henry to ask questions—questions that helped him discover who the people of Storybrooke _really_ were. Henry swallowed nervously as he approached the man, noticing his dark and unusually formal-looking clothing.

As he got closer, he noticed little details about the man, like: the unfriendliness of his lowered eyebrows, the relaxed way his arm was sprawled across the back of the bench, and his clothes—his clothes told Henry that he had to have been someone _interesting_ in his book. Jefferson scowled as the "mayor's" son walked towards him as if it was perfectly normal to approach a stranger who watched children from a distance. The little girl who didn't know him as her father—who didn't know him at all—had already left the school grounds. It was the mere curiosity of the boy's approach that kept Jefferson anchored to his seat. The "mayor's" son—the "mayor's" _growing_ son was rumored to be a little "off". Jefferson didn't believe it. He knew the truth, and more than that, he knew what people said about people who knew the truth.

Henry gulped as he stopped in front of the over-dressed man, feeling suddenly awkward. Jefferson, noticing the boys apprehension decided to force a smile, but the boy didn't buy it.

"How come you sit here everyday?" Henry asked with suspiciously narrowed eyes.

Jefferson examined the "mayor's" son for a moment, realizing that—of all people on Regina's "not-allowed-to-speak-to-my-son" list—he was probably number 1. A dark gleam shone in his eyes as Jefferson decided to leap at the opportunity.

"How come you grow up so fast?" he countered with a smug raise of his chin.

Henry's eyes went wide at the mans words and he quickly took a seat on the bench beside him. Jefferson flinched away in surprise, sliding as far away from the boy as the side-rail allowed.

"You noticed!" Henry exclaimed, excitement filling him at the prospect of finding someone who knew the truth, "No one ever notices!"

Jefferson silently _humphed_ at that, his jaw setting as he glanced off into the distance. _The "mayor's" son is the only child that ever grows._ Jefferson's brow furrowed and he shot the boy a look as he wondered why that was...

"No one ever comes or goes, either." he replied as he looked the boy over, wondering where or who Regina had taken him from—he certainly hadn't come from _their_ world_._

"I can. I can come and go." Henry told him as if it were a confession, but Jefferson had already assumed as much. _After all, who wouldn't try to run away from home if they lived with Regina?_

"I'm not sure why I can leave," the boy continued as he slipped his backpack off his shoulder to open it, "But—I think it has something to do with _this_..."

Jefferson watched carefully as the boy pulled a book out of his backpack and began flipping through its pages.

"I believe its because of the curse," Henry said as his finger pointed to a particular page, "I'm not part of the curse."

The page his finger had landed on had an illustration of the Queen, standing before a fire as a cloud of purple smoke rose up from it. Obviously someone had written a book about Regina's evil doing. Jefferson looked at the boy.

"You should be careful who you show this book to." he warned.

Henry gave a sigh.

"I already learned that lesson," he admitted with a tight-lipped smirk, "My mom has me in therapy because of it."

_Therapy. _Jefferson's jaw clenched at the word. _Regina would have her own son believe himself to be crazy... _Jefferson shook his head and then turned to the boy, giving him a stern look.

"There's nothing wrong with believing in something," he said as he held Henry's gaze, "No matter what anyone tells you—it's not crazy. _You're_ not crazy."

A smile lit-up the boys face as he gazed up at the man—the over-dressed man he didn't know.

"I'm Henry." he said as he stuck his hand out towards him.

Jefferson's eyes narrowed at something in the distance before he acknowledged the "mayor's" son again.

"I know." he replied.

All too quickly, Jefferson shook the boys hand, stood to his feet and then walked-off so fast that Henry didn't know what had happened. The boy grabbed-up his belongings and made a move to run after the man.

"HENRY!" a familiar scolding voice yelled-out his name.

Henry slouched where he stood as he saw his mom marching towards him, her heels clicking hard against the pavement as she approached.

"Just what do you think you're doing? You have an appointment with Dr. Hopper in 5 minutes! You're going to be late!"

Henry glanced over his shoulder, searching for the over-dressed man as his mom pulled him by his arm towards their car. Henry would look for the man again tomorrow and everyday**—**in hopes of having someone to confide in, someone who knew the truth. Once school let out, he would look across the street towards the bench where the man had always sat, but he was never there. It was as if he had never existed at all! _Did I dream him up? _Henry wondered, but he only ever questioned his sanity that one time. Henry knew what he had seen and he believed the things he saw. Henry wasn't crazy—he knew, better than most, that few things were crazier than seeing and **not** believing. And Henry Mills was a believer.


End file.
